Venom
by Wicked Thorin
Summary: SUMMARY: Kili is bitten by a snake. Someone has to suck the poison out. Shameless excuse for hurt/comfort and to write about Thorin Oakenshield putting his head between his nephew's legs. Oh, Fili gets in there, too. COUPLES: Fili x Kili, Thorin x Kili, Thorin x Bilbo WARNINGS: Incest (kinda), graphic description of violence against snakes


**Venom**

**Summary**: Kili is bitten by a snake. Someone has to suck the poison out. Shameless excuse for hurt/comfort and to write about Thorin Oakenshield putting his head between his nephew's legs. Oh, Fili gets in there, too.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Couples:** ( None HAVE to be taken as romantic, mind you _) Thorin x Kili, Kili x Fili, Thorin x Bilbo

**Warning**: Incest (kinda), graphic description of violence against snakes

The night was moonless and the snake silent as it slid on its belly across the dewy grass. The reptile was ugly and vicious, thick as a Dwarf's wrist and crested with poisonous spikes down the length of its body, which ended in a barbed tail. Like much that grew and had flourished in this forest, the Necromancer's dark leak of power had twisted it into something capable of only evil.

And so evil it sought to do.

**********

Despite the damp earth turning their blankets into clinging wet shrouds, the company of Thorin Oakenshield slept soundly. The night air was mild and the forest air was sweet and crisp. Even Bilbo, usually in charge of comparing how _unlike_ his warm, fluffy bed their campsite was, had fallen to sleep quietly and without commentary.

When the dwarves had thrown dice to see who would have to guard this peaceful, perfect night, (instead of sleeping through it as was proper), both Kili and Fili had rolled double-sixes, instantly guaranteeing their immunity. They'd celebrated their luck in an obnoxious manner: Kili whooping and drawing his bow to shoot a loaf of stale bread out of Bombur's hands, pinning it to the dirt; Fili taking hold of either side of Bofur's hat and yanking it down over his head until the poor miner started blindly swinging his mattock in defense.

Eventually, Bifur (screaming what was surely expletives in Ancient Dwarvish) chased the two most annoying members off, brandishing about six different weapons at once as he advanced like a furious whirlwind. Kili even lost a lock of hair, sometime during the chase.

Eventually calm had descended, and Ori and Dori had taken their positions as watchmen for the night. Kili and Fili found an oak tree whose mossy, tangled roots heaved above the earth, making perfect pockets for sleeping in. The thick emerald moss cushioned the roots, and the wind high above made the leaves whisper to them in endless lullabies. The brothers found a perfectly-sized earthen cradle and sprawled out against each other in the night, sharing blankets and pillowing their heads on each others' bodies.

Ori and Nori were not to blame. Not even an eagle lord could have seen this dark snake on this dark night; not with the powers that sped its movement, its purpose. It went through the camp like a shadow. One might glance it from the corner of their eye, but by the time they turned he would have slithered on, keeping to the darkest places.

The snake smelled youth in the air. Youth meant inexperience, weakness; youth also meant potential power, potential danger, and the prolonging of a hated species. It wanted the youths.

It did not take long for him to find them, sleeping soundly in the rambling roots of an oak tree. He wound his body up the thick oak trunk, his gleaming scales rasping, his spiked crest gleaming like wet thorns. For a while he simply observed them, then like black lightning he flowed down the trunk and through the roots and curled himself around the youngest's ankle, winding up and up his leg until his head was nestled in the tender inner part of his thigh. He opened his jaws and bit down, through leather and into soft, sweet flesh. Venom jetted out of his fangs, and if a snake could have sighed in contentment, he certainly would have.

"Fili!"

Fili's eyes snapped open, his eyes awake and alert at his brother's cry.

"Fili, my leg! Durin help me, my leg!" Kili fumbled at where the pain was coming from and then gasped sharply, his whole body going still as ice. "Fili..."

Fili pushed himself up. They were far away enough from the campfire that the light of it didn't touch them; and with the lack of moon the darkness was so complete that a human wouldn't have been able to see his hand before his eyes. But Dwarven eyes were used to dark places, and when Fili stared down at his brother's legs, he saw the danger there, though the snake was merely a black shadow on a lesser black shadow.

"A serpent..." he whispered.

"Yeah, I know... ugh, I don't feel right..." Kili's voice had suddenly turned thick and confused, though still hazed with pain.

Fili punched the tips of two daggers through the snake's spiny back and into its vertebrae, twisting the blades so the tiny bones popped and crunched around them. It was the fate that awaited any sort of creature that hurt his brother.

"I need light over here!" Fili screamed towards the slumbering company and its two guards. "Light!"

"Fili...?"

"Hush, little brother."

The snake's body was slowly going limp, drooping off his brother's leg, but his long fangs didn't retract and its jaws did not loosen. Gently, Fili worked the tip of his knife between the snake's upper and lower jaw, then began sawing backwards towards the back of its head. It's skull caved with a wet snap and Fili carefully slid upper and lower fangs out of his brother's thigh, careful to follow the curve of the teeth out and not yank them straight out.

Though Dori and Ori had begun to run to them, fire-blind and tripping over the thickets of underbrush, it was Gandalf that appeared first. The old wizard whispered a word that seemed to float on the air like a loose cobweb. The tip of his gnarled staff suddenly flared with a pale blue flame, bathing the two brothers in light.

Kili winced and turned his face into his brother's shoulder, the light hurting him unbearably. His pupils were no bigger than pinpricks. Fili inspected the inside of his brother's thigh, but there was surprisingly little to see. There were two neat punctures in the leather of his leggings, and a damp spot of blood no bigger than a gold coin.

"H-he has been bitten..." Fili explained to the wizard towering above him. "The wound is not bad, but a snake such as this..."

He held the upper half of the head up for Gandalf to see, careful of the hard curves of its fangs.

"... poisonous," Gandalf finished for him. Grey-faced, the powerful wizard seemed to lean on his glowing staff for support.

"Kili? Kili?" Fili shook his brother's shoulders and the younger's head lolled drunkenly.

His skin was mushroom-white, beaded from sweat. Fili cupped the back of his neck and looked down, trying to force his brother to meet his eyes. Kili's gaze passed over his, and then his eyelids slumped as if he couldn't keep them open. "I can feel it in me, like snow. Really cold... my hip..."

_The venom is flowing up his body!_ The thought screamed in Fili's head.

"What is all this noise?" Thorin demanded, coming around the oak tree, his sword in one hand, eager to be used against monsters or nephews equally. Ori and Nori tromped up behind him, and distant grumbling signified the slow stirring of the rest of the company.

The Dwarf prince lowered his sword at the scene before him: the spiked, scaled serpent lying dead near Kili, hacked to pieces at the neck; the way Fili held his brother, like he was preparing to journey with him to the Halls of Mandos this very night.

Thorin fell to a knee beside Kili, flinging his sword away. "Did this just happen?" He barked, glowering at Fili.

"Y-yes, uncle." Fili was having trouble speaking. His thoughts seemed bogged down in tar, and it was as if every word in his vocabulary was blinking out of existence, one by one. His hands were shaking. His brother was dying in his arms. Already he was pale as a corpse.

"Fool," Thorin snarled. Never before had he scolded Fili with such malice in his voice, but tonight it is what he needed. "Hold him," he demanded, and yanked Kili's afflicted leg out straight by his boot. With a small knife he sheared the inside of his leggings apart, ripping them out of the way of the bite. The skin there was an ugly blue now, and the blood that oozed lazily from the two fang-marks was black. Thorin leaned down and pressed his mouth to his nephew's bruised skin, sucking until the clotted blood gave and vile, hot liquid streamed into his mouth. He turned his head and spat scarlet into the grass, then returned to his task.

"Thorin..." Kili moaned. His cold fingers found his uncle's silver-streaked hair and tugged at it feebly. He was shivering. He felt the gentle kneading of teeth and the rough scrape of his uncle's beard- but also he felt a terrible pain, like an icicle had pierced through skin and muscle, splintering his bone. And the chilling agony was creeping up his body, at his hip now and reaching towards his stomach.

"Oh, Fili...brother, it _hurts_," He panted, and Fili could only cling to him, his arms crossed tight across Kili's torso as he threatened to writhe.

"If it hurts, the venom hasn't completely taken its toll," Gandalf said from above them; but despite the hope that his words should have inspired, his face was still wan with doubt. He muttered quiet, angry words under his breath, among them "_dark magi_c".

The rest of the company had now gathered around the tree, Dwalin coming to kneel on the other side of Kili, ready to grab him should Fili need help holding him still. Bilbo and Ori stood the furthest away, round-eyed and frozen to the spot, too afraid to come any closer.

Thorin spat mouthful after mouthful of tainted blood into the grass, and every time he touched his mouth to Kili's thigh, his nephew cried out more pitifully, pain and weakness eating him up at the same time.

Finally, the pain made Kili clench both brawny thighs tight around his uncle, desperate to stop him or smother him, no one was sure.

"Now brother, you trying to break uncle's neck?" Fili murmured against Kili's ear, reaching down and taking a firm hold of Kili's uninjured thigh. Firmly but gently, he forced it open. "You must let him do this." From then on he held his brother's leg apart from the other, forcing him to bare his wound to his uncle. He could feel his brother's muscles trembling uncontrollably. It was a strange, sweet thing, to feel such a sad symptom. Had Thorin not come, his brother wouldn't even be alive.

The night went on, and the task seemed more hopeless, and the grass grew red where it was painted with blood. Kili, his hair and throat damp with sweat, had leaned his limp head back against his brother's chest, and for minutes now had not breathed a word nor opened his eyes.

Suddenly Thorin stood and staggered backwards, rubbing his bloodied mouth on his sleeve. He seemed to sway, as if he alone were standing on a ship. "My mouth aches terribly..."

For a dwarf such as Thorin Oakenshield to admit such a thing, meant the pain was likely one hundred times that which he described.

Bilbo, who had been lulled into wandering closer, suddenly appeared, taking Thorin's arm over his sturdy shoulders. "Here," he said, lifting his waterskin up to the prince. "You must drink this, and wash out your mouth. It's been in contact with venom for the last ten minutes, so it's no wonder." His voice was very stern, and Thorin was very dizzy; so he followed the hobbit's instructions, and even let the hobbit lead him somewhere close to sit.

"Mr. Baggins is right," Gandalf said, his storm-blue eyes not leaving the youngest dwarf. He, as much as all the others, was desperately hoping for Kili to escape the fangs of death... but not confident that he could. "You've done all you could, Thorin."

"Please, hold him so he is comfortable," Fili begged Dwalin as he shifted his brother's weight into his arms. He knelt between his brother's legs, then looked up at Gandalf. "How will I know the venom is gone from him?" He asked, barely able to keep a tremor from his voice.

"When his blood tastes like blood... and not like a foul chemical."

Fili nodded, and without a second's hesitation he gently lifted his brother's thigh so he could see the bite clearly in Gandalf's pale light; then he closed his mouth on his punctured flesh and continued Thorin's work.

Kili made a sound of confusion, and his long, dark eyelashes fluttered. He seemed to sense the touch of his brother's mouth in a different way than his uncle's; for he did not fight him, and the sounds that he made weren't as much of pain, but of distress and pleading. Although, perhaps by that time he was just too weak for anything else.

Minutes passed, and unexpectedly Fili drew a mouthful of blood from his brother's wound that tasted like hot copper... and nothing else. He spat it out in the red-puddled grass and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, leaving a dark streak. "I did not taste poison, that time..." he whispered to no one.

Oin held out a long roll of bandages and a flask of brandy. "Now all you can do is wash him, bind him and wait, lad," the older dwarf said.

Fili did as he ordered, steadfastly ignoring his brother's growling cry as he poured alcohol over his bite. The second the pungent drink hit the inflamed bite, the alcohol frothed and hissed so loud that everyone near could hear it. Kili bucked in Fili and Dwalin's grip, nearly flinging both of them off. But then he was spent, the last of his energy gone in that final attempt of escape. His eyes slumped shut and unconsciousness took him.

**********

"I said,_ 'open up'_," Bilbo repeated stubbornly, glaring at the worn face of the Dwarven prince in front of him. The sun had risen, and finally Bilbo had deemed it bright enough to check the dwarf for any wounds to his mouth. After several cleansing rinses, Thorin had claimed it no longer burned, but Bilbo didn't trust him with measuring his own pain.

"Well?" The hobbit asked imperiously.

Thorin's eyes cut to the side, and then the other side, in annoyance. Bilbo realized he was checking to see who watched them.

The burglar took the prince's beard in his fingertips and yanked him forward. "If your lost mountain is anywhere near the size of your pride, Thorin Oakenshield, all this trouble may actually be worth it someday."

**********

Kili woke up unable to move, and for a good hour both he and Fili were in agony, wondering what this meant. How long would it be until he could walk? Would he ever walk again? Would he slowly get better or would he get worse, sicken and die?

But by nine o'clock a terrible tingling had started in Kili's toes and worked up his body, bringing life back into his nerves and muscles. Still, he was weak, so after forcing Fili to help him up, just to make sure he_ could_ still stand and walk, he'd collapsed back down and fallen into a dead sleep in the arms of his brother.

When he woke again it was the next day. He was a little stronger, though he had to lean on Fili's shoulder just to amble a few feet away and make water.

"I don't know what I would have done without you, brother," he sighed, as they rested against one other near the campfire that night. He tried lifting his leather waterskin for a drink, but his wrist was weak and he winced before getting it to his mouth. Fili caught it and gently tipped it above Kili's lips, drizzling the sweet, cold water onto his tongue.

"...I did nothing. It is Thorin who saved you." No confession had ever hurt Fili more. The memory of his cowardice, how he had shut down and done nothing but stare down at his brother in horror- it made him cringe inside.

Kili shook his head, closing his eyes. For a moment, Fili thought he'd fallen asleep again. He'd been drifting in and out. Fingers touched his palm. He looked down and saw Kili trying to slide his fingers in between his. He finished the gesture for him and Kili sighed quietly. "I heard you..."

"Hm?"

"I was leaving," the younger dwarf went on. "I had already forgotten you, everyone, this world. I saw great stone halls and I walked towards them."

Fili had gone cold inside.

"But I heard you."

Fili's brows knit together, his eyes dark. "I... I never..." He shook his head, his ornamented mustache swinging. "I wasn't calling you."

Kili smiled, showing a thin crease of his teeth. "It was your spirit, I think. You ran up to me and grabbed my shoulder. You said: _'Where do you think you're going, idiot? You're not leaving 'til I leave with you_.'"

Fili shook his head again, laughing under his breath. His eyes stung. "Gandalf said the venom _could_ cause hallucinations."

Silence.

And then: "You are the best hallucination I ever had."

"As are you, my strange little brother. But Kili?"

"Mmh?"

"I would listen to me, if I were you."

Kili let out a very soft snore, in reply. Fili waited to see if he would stir once again, but he didn't. His body was aching from being used as the younger's personal pillow for nearly two days, but he would never push him away. He would take on Smaug the Terrible by himself, if it meant Kili could spend the rest of his days snoring away in peace.

And if he ever tried a stunt like that, Kili would show up rooting for the dragon.

With a weak smile, Fili touched his mouth to his brother's. He just needed to feel his lips, his breath... hot and alive.

_You're not leaving 'til I leave with you._


End file.
